


Recessional

by alienchrist



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Awkwardness, Budding Love, Canon Compliant, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 03:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5611774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienchrist/pseuds/alienchrist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes having a crush is a little bit like falling backward slowly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recessional

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aespren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aespren/gifts).



4\. 

"It's so beautiful here," Armin says, strapping on his gear. 

"What's beautiful about it? S'just another morning," Jean says with a yawn. "And who knows what a shitshow the rest of the day's going to turn out to be, with this crackpot mission." 

"I didn't say it's a beautiful situation, just that it's beautiful here. This moment now, the way the sun is shining." 

Jean looks around. He sees trees, Wall Sina, the wagons and horses. They might all die today. He's tired down to his bones. So what if the sun is shining? The sun doesn't make people die any less. 

Just another morning. 

"You sound like Krista back in the day. Since when were you so goodie-goodie?" 

"I don't know." Armin gives a light shrug. "I'm not allowed to be in a good mood?" 

"It's not like you need my permission," Jean grumbles, "I just don't see how you can be." 

"Things are looking pretty grim," Armin admits. 

"As usual." 

"As usual," Armin agrees. "I guess it's just the product of a good night's rest." 

Jean cannot remember the last time Armin smiled. Maybe the last time he reunited with Eren, though he might've just cried. Jean knows for certain Armin has never smiled directly at him. 

Armin is smiling now, and Jean thinks he understands something he missed before. Birds sing in the distance. The air is bright and smells of green. 

"Well, time to go report. See you after the mission."

Jean knows he doesn't want this. Swears he doesn't want this. There's a reason not to want this, but he forgot.

3\. 

In the back of the wagon, Armin falls asleep on Jean's shoulder, hair falling forward, mouth all askew. Jean discreetly checks for witnesses. Their cohorts in the wagon work on a scarce sleep with dropped chins and whistling snores. 

Secure in his secrecy, Jean tucks Armin's hair behind his ear. A tiny trickle of moonlight spills over his face. Even asleep Armin wears a look of concentration, thick brows creased and strained from the weight of a million worries. Armin's hair is soft and fine. Jean touches it longer than he needs to. 

A wheel hits a stone. The wagon bounces. Armin stirs but does not wake. Jean shifts so he'll be more comfortable. He works hard to be still and quiet, as if the wrong breath could jolt Armin when a stone could not. 

The wheels squeak, the horses nicker and snort, and Eren mutters promises of murder in his sleep. Armin dreams through the noise, his weight against Jean, face pressed against the rough wool of his cloak. 

Maybe it means nothing, but Jean is afraid to move. 

2\. 

"Checkmate," Armin states as a matter of fact. 

"Again? Damn, I should've seen that coming five moves ago." Jean gripes, sits back, combs his fingers through his hair in hopeless frustration. 

Armin points out, "You're getting better. You're pretty good at thinking strategically, you just have to get comfortable with the idea of sacrificing some pieces." Armin hands Jean each of his pieces: the pawns first, then the bishops, the knights, the rooks. "Prioritize your movement. Think in the long-term." 

"Another round and I'll beat you." Jean adds, "It won't be because I took your stupid advice, though." 

"I'm sure it won't," Armin says. Jean suspects sarcasm. "And I would love another challenge. Bertholdt and Reiner are... enthusiastic, and that's fun in its own way, but you try a different approach every time. I like that." 

"Let's go, then. Smoke before fire." 

Armin helps Jean set up the board again. "This time I'm going to try to beat you less than ten moves, just for fun." 

"You're just playing mind games, no way you can do that!" 

"I think I probably can, since I've seen how you play and know your frame of mind. Maybe not, though. We'll see." 

"Just shut up and play," Jeans says. 

True to Jean's request, Armin nods and doesn't say more. 

Armin and Jean spend more than half of their time together in silence. It is an amiable thing - what more can two people who've trained together for so long say to each other? They've lived the same experiences.

Yet as rare as Armin's words are, Jean learns more and more. Armin drinks his tea strong, no honey. Armin mouths the words he writes down, and the ones he sees posted on the chalk board. They start out as strangers, and now they play chess, take meals, even tease each other and debate philosophy.

Armin spends hours as close and unobtrusive as a shadow. Jean is so accustomed to him he sometimes finds himself asking a question to no one, expecting Armin to be near with an answer. Jean asked these empty spaces where Armin should be where Armin is, and who he is. Predictably they have no answer.

1\. 

"May I sit here?" Armin grips his meal tray so hard his knuckles are going white. Jean is surprised he's lasted a whole week of their training considering his frail body and excitable nature. As it is, he looks like he might keel over from the effort of standing and holding his supper. 

"I can't stop you," Jean says, glancing over to the food line for Connie or Marco. "But I'm not gonna be nice to your pal Eren, just so you know. So don't ask me to." 

"I wasn't," Armin said, "I just wanted to sit here." 

"Well I can't stop you," Jean repeats himself. "But I'm not gonna ask you to stay." 

Armin stands up, shoving the bench back in the movement. "I'm sorry, I don't think I'll sit here after all. There's a terrible draft from this direction." 

"Suit yourself," Jean says, thinking little of it. 

"I'll see you around, Jean," Armin replies. He turns to leave. Jean knows his own thighs are smarting, his feet are stiff. Yet Armin walks steady, his head high and his tray balanced. 'I'll see you around' is what he said, but it sounded like a brush off, somehow. 

Jean thinks a lot of that, for some reason. Too bad they could never be friends.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [Vienna Teng - Recessional](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AGKicxfFtsw).


End file.
